


Under the Hood

by chibi_nightowl



Series: Myth-Bats [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Family Bonding, Gen, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: “Oh my god, I completely forgot. Is it Thanksgiving already?” Tim asks in disbelief. “What the early Christmas decorations at the stores not enough of a clue? Some detective you are," Jason replies.-Or-Jason and Tim cook Thanksgiving dinner under the hood of the Batmobile.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to the world of Myth-Bats! Fluff, fluff, and more fluff abounds in this installment. I've wanted to write this particular story since I first started this series and now that the holiday is almost upon us, it's time! :)
> 
> I also want to give a special shout-out to GoAwayOlivia for the beta work!

Chapter 1

Jason’s at the grocery store picking up a few things for dinner when he notices the large display, all decked out in fall colors and a giant paper turkey, with all the trimmings for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. The only thing missing is the turkey, but there’s a convenient notice saying where frozen turkeys can be found and their sale price per pound.

_Is it that time already? Damn, but this is something Replacement and I really want to do._ During their time on the island, they’d talked about myths and which ones they really want to try and the Thanksgiving special was right at the top of both of their lists. The whole concept of cooking an entire meal under the hood of a car especially appealed to Jason. _It’s the mechanics of it. Temperature control, cooking time, knowing how and what cooks best at what temps, but really, it’s the chance to fuck around under the hood of an old car. Nothing wrong with that in my book. I can get my hands on something old enough no problem, but…Christ, I really want to use a Batmobile. It would be fucking awesome!_

Walking past the display, Jason gets what he needs, pays, and walks out.

_I need to call Replacement. Wonder if he’s remembered…_

***** 

Tim sits at his desk at WE and stares blankly at his computer monitor. There’s a shareholder meeting he’s supposed to be getting ready for and he can’t get his head in the game. He feels…bored. Disengaged. Unfocused. He also has a tickle in the back of his throat and the pressure in his ears signals the beginnings of a cold.

_I hate cold weather. I hate winter. I hate being sick. I need soup. I’m taking a sick day. Bruce can do his own work for once._

His cell phone ringing is a welcome distraction from the almost blank screen in front of him. _It’s Jason. I haven’t heard from him since we got back from the island._ “Hey, Jason,” Tim rasps, then clears his throat in surprise at the sound. “Sorry about that, starting to get sick.”

“Lucky for you I just bought everything I need to make some green chili chicken stew. Get your ass over here, I’ll feed ya.”

“I’m just getting ready to leave and that sounds great. But you didn’t call me to invite me to dinner, so what’s up?” Tim starts typing an email to Tam and Bruce saying he’s sick and leaving for the day.

“I’ll talk about it when you get here. I’ll text you the address, it’s a different safehouse.”

“Does the dishwasher actually work at this one?” Tim asks dryly, thinking back to the lasagna Jason cooked in his dishwasher.

“Dunno, haven’t used it. See you soon.” Jason hangs up.

_What is he up to?_ The question bothers Tim the entire way out of Wayne Tower and across town to the Bowery address Jason sends him.

***** 

Upon Tim’s arrival, Jason directs him to his makeshift coffee table and sets him in front of his laptop and gives him a cup of steaming hot tea. “It’s got lemon and honey in it already, so drinky drinky, Timmers.”

Tim gives him a bleary look, but takes the hot tea and slowly takes a sip. _Probably drinks so much coffee, hot liquids don’t even phase his tongue._

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asks, eyeing the laptop with a hint of curiosity.

Jason smirks and goes back to the kitchen. “Just start the video!” he shouts as he tests the broth of his stew. _Needs more garlic. And another can of chilies._ He takes a peek at Tim as he taps on the play button, waiting to see his reaction.

Tim’s face lights up as the opening sequence plays. “Oh my god, I completely forgot. Is it Thanksgiving already?” he asks in disbelief.

“What the early Christmas decorations at the stores not enough of a clue? Some detective you are.” Jason tosses in the additional ingredients, gives the pot a good stir, and puts the lid on it. Grabbing his own cup of tea, he sits down next to Tim as he watches the beginning of the episode.

“I’ve been busy…” Tim trails off, taking what Jason knows are mental notes and making a to-do list and running through possible scenarios for an epic success or an epic fail.

“Me to. I didn’t remember until today actually. We’ve got plenty of time. It’s still two weeks out.”

“Do you have a car in mind?” Tim asks, rewinding the video to where the classic car pulls into the shop.

“Yeah…but the one I really want to use is something only you’re going to have access to.” _The Batmobile Bruce used when I was Robin would be perfect. Or even the one he used when Dick was still in short-pants._

Tim glances over at Jason. “One of the older Batmobiles.” It’s not a question and Jason knows it.

“Yeah,” he replies. “B still keep the old ones around? The ones that weren’t destroyed that is.”

“He does.” Tim takes another sip of tea. “I know we talked about this on the island, so you know that only way Bruce is going to let us use one of the older cars is if you come to the Cave to work on it there.”

Jason sighs and takes a long swallow from his mug. _I know I’ve been on better terms with everyone recently, but playing with fruit and swords is one thing. The Batmobile’s going to have to be modified to at least look somewhat street legal as there’s no way in hell just driving the streets of Gotham are going to get us the kind of temperatures we need. Or hell, maybe it will. That’s part of the beauty of this, we’ve got to drive the car to test it to make sure it’ll even do what we want. Fuck. I want to do this. I WANT to use my Batmobile. Time to put on my big boy pants and suck it up._

“This better not turn into a family thing,” he growls.

Tim sighs and sips his tea. “If it helps, Damian’s a vegetarian and absolutely despises the basis of Thanksgiving. It was quite the rant he went on last year about it. If we time this for the actual holiday, he may be the only one who’ll want to come with.”

“I’m not making tofurkey.”

***** 

Tim makes his way into the Batcave later that afternoon. He’s still sniffling, but the spicy stew Jason made really got his nose running. He already feels clearer. _But I’d be leaving a tissue trail tonight if I was going out. I think I’ve gone through most of a box since I left the office.  
_

Bruce is sitting in front of the computer examining blue prints for a building up on the massive screen. Tim sniffles again as he comes to stand next to the man.

“You’re not going out tonight sounding like that,” he rumbles.

“Not planning on it. I’ve got plenty of work I can do here.” Tim glances up at the screen, then back to Bruce. He’s been debating the entire way over how to bring up his and Jason’s plan for one of the old Batmobiles but hasn’t come up with anything that guaranteed success. _I will bribe him with family time if it comes to it; Jason won’t like it but he wants to do this so badly._ “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Go ahead.” Bruce doesn’t turn his attention away from the screen. The man will never outright agree to doing a favor before hearing the request first. He’ll at least listen before shutting a person down.

“Jason and I want to borrow one of the older Batmobiles. Like one of the ones from his time as Robin or even a bit older.” Tim says it quickly.

The request gives Bruce a visible look of surprise and he turns to look at Tim for the first time since he arrived in the Cave. “Does this have something to do with those myths you two have been doing?”

Tim nods. “Yes. And no, it won’t involve blowing up the car. We want to see if we can cook Thanksgiving dinner under the hood of the Batmobile.”

Bruce looks thoughtful for a moment. “I remember watching that particular episode with you. It was…interesting.” He pauses and gives Tim a considering look. “I agree with one condition.”

“Which is?”

“That all the work to prepare the car and the food be done here at the Manor. Everyone can participate if they choose to.” There’s a glimmer of something in Bruce’s eyes that Tim can’t quite place.

“That’s two conditions, but I agree to both. We already figured we’d have to work on the car here for the modifications to make it at least _look_ street legal. I think Jay’ll like working with Alfred on the food prep too.”

“Good.” Bruce nods firmly and Tim finally figures out what he’s seeing in Bruce’s eyes. _Nostalgia. Hope. He wants to work on this myth with us. Him, Jason, and me. Well, Jason knew what he was agreeing to by wanting to use a Batmobile, so hopefully he’ll behave._ _And I’ll wrangle Alfred into making sure Bruce does._

“Now go upstairs and get some rest before you come back down here,” Bruce says as he turns back to the computer. “Take some medicine.”

Tim’s lips quirk in a small smile. “Yes, _Dad_ ,” he says as he walks away. The look on Bruce’s face whenever he calls him that always makes him laugh.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know almost precisely squat about the inner workings of a car. I can replace a battery and change a tire and that's it. Any all errors in the following chapter are all on me. :)

Chapter 2

A wave of strong emotion surges through Jason as he takes in the sight of what he’s always thought of as _his_ Batmobile. _Damn, I wonder if it’s the exact same one I boosted the tires from? Sure looks like it._

Next to him, Tim stands with a satisfied smile on his face. His long hair is pulled back in a messy pony tail and he’s wearing clothes with grease stains on them that Timothy Drake-Wayne would never be seen in. “Ready to open her up?”

“What, you haven’t yet?”

“It’s your car, I thought you’d like the honors.”

_This is why the fucker is my favorite. Times like these, I actually regret trying to kill him._ Jason opens the driver’s side door and presses the lever to pop the hood open. _Ain’t no way that thing’s releasing from the outside._ Coming around to the front, he opens the hood all the way and secures it in place.

Tim lets out a low whistle. “Now this is a work of art.”

“Forget sometimes you like to get down and dirty, Replacement.”

“I love working on cars almost as much as I love working on computers.”

Jason chuckles. “Let’s get dirty then.” He leans in and starts flashing his light at the different crevices and corners of the engine block. Tim drops to his knees, then shimmies under the car to shine his light up.

“Man, this is old. There’s next to no shielding down here,” he says as his flashlight shines up and into Jason’s eyes.

“Simpler times, simpler cars,” a not entirely unexpected voice says from behind Jason’s shoulder. “I started adding the shielding two cars after this one.”

Jason turns to see Bruce standing there, wearing a pair of grease stained jeans and a t-shirt. _I know Tim agreed to this being a potential family event and I said I was okay with it, but fuck is it going to be hard to keep my mouth shut. Focus. You want to use this car and this is the price to pay._

“What, no one try to blow up the Batmobile until after I died?” _I’m behaving, but damn if I won’t be pressing buttons._

A pained look crosses Bruce’s face briefly, then quickly disappears. Jason knew from experience he hated Jason making bad jokes about his own death. _Not sure why, I’m the one who died after all. Shit coping mechanism, but worth it sometimes._

“Not from beneath,” Bruce replies. “Most of the time, people would just shoot at it. It wasn’t until I found an undetonated bomb hidden in the engine block that I took additional precautions underneath.”

_Oh, yeah…I almost forgot about that._ Jason smirks. “Considering all the other bells and whistles you added after I jacked your tires, I’m surprised anyone got close enough.” _Patience and a good sense of balance. Christ, that took me the better part of two hours to get close enough to get beneath the sensor range._

Bruce shrugs. “There’s always room for improvement. Now what exactly are we looking for? I’ve only seen the episode in question once and it was a few years ago.”

_Like you haven’t watched it a dozen times between last week and now. Liar, liar, pants on fire._ “Right now, we’re looking for available cooking space. Once we’ve identified those areas, Timmy’s going to hook up his heat sensor array to those areas and we’re going to take this baby for a road trip.”

“Then she’s going to need a full tune-up. I haven’t turned her on once since…I retired her.”

Jason let the break in Bruce’s voice slide. “How’re you doin’ under there, Replacement?”

“Fine,” Tim’s voice echoes up from beneath the old Batmobile. “You really should be the one doing this though. I see a few places we can use, but the angles are odd, so I’m not sure we can even get a cooking vessel into them.” He slides out, looking a bit more disheveled than usual.

“I could barely fit under this car when I was 14, there’s no way in hell I can do it now without the car being lifted.” _Who’d have thought the street urchin would end up giving Bruce a run for his money in terms of sheer size?_

“We can move her to the workshop,” Bruce says. “Go put her in neutral, Jason and release the emergency brake. Tim and I can push while you keep her straight.”

“Shouldn’t Jason be pushing?” Tim asks as he moves to the back of the car. “He’s as big as you and weighs almost as much.”

“My car, Timmers. Mine.”

*****

Tim shines the flashlight up into the depths of the Batmobile. The car’s on the lift they all use when any of their vehicles need undercarriage work. “In the show, there’d be space here, here, and here.” He points to each area, Jason standing next to him. “But with the modifications Bruce made to the engine and the additional components, there’s next to no extra room.”

“Well, it’s not like we need this car to shoot fire out the back or have a nitrous oxide engine anymore…” Jason trails off as he spots something. “Fuck. B, this is a wet multi-port system, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Bruce replies from the other side of Tim. _He’s being smart to keep his distance from Jason. I just wish I didn’t have to be the monkey in the middle._ “I completely rebuilt the engine to be able to support that kind of system. If I remember correctly, you helped rebuild this particular engine after the first one went out.”

Tim sighs, echoing Jason’s. “Well, there goes that idea,” he says. “But we can take out the burners out of the back. There’s a line from here,” Tim flashes the light from the front to the back, “to here.” He goes back to the front. “If this comes out, that’s a good chunk of space right behind…”

The three men poke and prod and make suggestions for what kind of modifications need to be made to the old Batmobile. At one point, Tim steps away to grab his tablet and pull up the old schematics for the car. When he comes back, he chuckles quietly and smiles at what he sees.

Jason and Bruce have lowered the car so that Bruce is standing on a stepstool and leaning over the open engine. Beneath the car, Jason is flat on his back and saying something to the older man that’s making him laugh. Tim quickly holds up the tablet and snaps a few pictures. _I think I know what Bruce is getting for Christmas this year._

Whatever Jason’s doing, he pulls himself out. There’s grease on his cheek and his black hair is a mess. He goes to the opposite side of the engine from Bruce and shines his flashlight down. “What do you think of that?” he’s asking Bruce. Tim takes a few more pictures. _These are even better._

“Hey, I got the schematics,” Tim finally says and both men come over to look.

It takes awhile, but they finally figure out what needs to be removed so that there’s enough space to have a chance to cook something under the hood of the car, but still keep the proper airflow so the engine doesn’t overheat.

“This is going to take all night,” Tim says as he looks at their plan. “Not to mention we need to redo the detailing on the car to hide the Bat-symbol. Can’t believe you used to paint this on the cars, Bruce.”

Jason snorts in amusement. “Better than the weird Bat-shield over the front bumper that came next.”

“I’m allowed to make sartorial mistakes too,” Bruce says, wiping his hands on a rag. “The shield was practical though. I did a lot of car ramming in those days. Plus, it hid the grapple line.”

Jason and Tim shake their heads. “I dunno what you’re rollin’ your eyes about, Replacement. That was your Batmobile.”

“Not for long. I had the Redbird after I got my special driver’s license because of Dad.” _I loved that car._

“You had a car? At 13?” Jason asks in disbelief. “How did I not fucking know this?”

“14 actually,” Bruce chimes in.

“You’re not helping,” Tim says, peeking around Jason. “It wasn’t for long. When I turned 15, Dad went bankrupt and we had to move into the city. I had to ‘sell’ the car.”

“Sell?”

“Alfred. Master of disguise.”

Jason glares at Tim, but there’s no heat to it, then at Bruce. “For shame, B. Making Alfred take Tiny Tim’s favorite little toy from him.”

“Screw you,” Tim says, shoving an elbow in Jason’s side, hard enough to make the man wince and pull away. “Focus, Jason. How do we want to do this? We’ve got patrol soon and a lot of work ahead of us here. Even with all three of us staying in tonight, I don’t think we can finish.”

“I know,” Jason says, making a face. “I’ll get started while you guys go out. Shit in my neighborhood doesn’t really start until later anyway.”

_Makes me wonder what you call ‘shit’. The Bowery and Crime Alley are always problem areas, no matter what time of day._

The look on Bruce’s face says that he’s torn between needing to go on patrol and wanting to stay in the Cave with Jason. Tim sends him a warning look. _Don’t push it, Bruce. It’s gone so well this afternoon._

Bruce apparently gets the message. “I’ll take Damian out on patrol then. Will you be here tomorrow, Jay?” He can’t quite keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

“Where else will I be?” Jason replies. “This shit ain’t gonna take care of itself. Besides, the sooner we can get this old girl on the road, the sooner I can talk to Alfie about what the hell to make.”

_This was one huge step forward today, Bruce. Just don’t mess up and make it turn into one enormous step back. You have the worst track record of putting your foot in it when it comes to Jason. He’s trying. You can too._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else notice just how ridiculous some of the older designs for the Batmobile are? :D


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It ends up taking the better part of four days to get the work done on the old Batmobile. Jason comes roaring into the Cave the afternoon of the fifth day on his motorcycle to see Alfred bent over the open hood of the car, sleeves rolled up and a sporting a headlamp as he peers into the depths. 

“Hey, Alfie,” Jason says as he walks over. _Here’s another thing I’d forgotten. Alfred likes working on cars too. Can’t believe he’s poking around under the hood in his slacks and dress shirt, but then again, he always did before._

“Hello, Master Jason. This is a splendid job you, Master Bruce, and Master Tim have done here.” 

“Can’t help takin’ a peek, huh?” Jason leans over the other side of the open car. “Had to gut a few things to make space.” 

“So I see. Now, if I understand things correctly, you and Master Tim will take this fine lady out for a drive to find the… ‘hot spots’ is it?” 

“Kinda. We need to find out the different temperatures in the various nooks and crannies. Different food cooks best at different temperatures and different times. I want to eat what’s cooking under here, not burn it.” 

“I’d imagine you’ll need specialized cooking vessels too?” 

“Right. But first, road trip!” 

Alfred nods in agreement. “I am eagerly awaiting the results of your test. Have you given any thought to your menu?” The old man turns off the headlamp and steps away from the car. 

“Pretty much what’s on the show. Some things just won’t be possible, like mashed potatoes, but sweet potatoes are easy enough. I really want to figure out a way to make cranberry sauce too.” Jason walks over to the workbench and grabs the notes he’s left there. “Here’s a list of what I’m thinkin’ of.” 

“Perhaps I will do some experiments of my own with cranberry sauce. It is a particular favorite of mine as well. It would be a shame if it weren’t part of the meal we’ll be partaking of.” 

_Did he just…?_ “Alfie, are you sayin’ you want to come with for the final drive?” Jason asks in surprise. 

“Of course, Master Jason,” Alfred replies archly. “I have a vested interest in the food you and I will be preparing, so it stands to reason that I be there for the final results, however they turn out.” 

_Fuck me, I didn’t think he’d want to._ Jason walks back to the old butler and, in a rare display of emotion, wraps him in a big hug. “Thanks, Alfie.” 

Alfred returns the embrace, patting the young man on the shoulders as he lets go. “You’re welcome Master Jason. If you don’t mind, I will prepare a second meal to bring with, just in case the first one doesn’t turn out. It would be a shame to reach our final destination without something to show for it.” 

Jason laughs. “I completely agree. Need a hand?” _This is the part I’ve been looking forward to almost as much as working on the car. I always used to help Alfred in the kitchen._

“As long as they’re your hands. I’m afraid the other members of this family are rather inept when it comes to the kitchen. Though Master Tim does show some promise if he would stop being distracted by his phone,” Alfred replied dryly.

*****  

Tim settles into the passenger seat of the Batmobile, strapping on the safety harness. His laptop is resting on his knees as he checks the sensors he’s placed in the engine to ensure they’re all working. _No normal seatbelts for this car. Thank god considering I know how Jason drives._

Next to him, Jason is in the driver’s seat, making all the needed adjustments so he can drive properly and strapping himself in. Bruce had gone over all the buttons and dials with both of them earlier, not that it mattered much since the car no longer has a rocket launcher or a grapple line. _Still, I don’t want to hit the ejector seat switch by mistake._

In the small backseat of the car, Damian is curled up, already sitting with his hoodie up and ear buds in. For some reason, he’d insisted on coming along for the test drive. Both Tim and Jason wanted to protest, but one raised eyebrow from Bruce was all it took to remind them of their deal. Along with Damian, there’s a medium sized cooler in the back with snacks, some drinks, and sandwiches prepared by Alfred for the drive. 

“You ready there, Timmers?” Jason asks. 

_At least he’s not calling me Replacement as much anymore._ “Yes. Everything looks good to go.” 

Jason uses the rearview mirror to glance at Damian. “You set back there, kid?” 

Damian doesn’t reply and just waves his hand in a ‘get on with it’ gesture. 

“All right. Next stop, Shenandoah National Park.” 

Tim gives Jason a strange look. “You do know that’s almost a five hour drive from Gotham, right?” 

“Not in this baby,” Jason crows. “Let’s do this!” With that, the Batmobile flies out of the Cave. 

It’s not long before they’re on the highway along the mainland, heading south towards Bludhaven. Jason’s smoothly weaving in and out of traffic, keeping a steady speed. Tim eyes the speed gauge and keeps his mouth shut. _If we get pulled over, it’s all on him. But at this rate, we can make the park in four hours.  
_

Shifting in his seat a bit, he casts a glance over his shoulder at Damian. The sullen pre-teen is curled up with his eyes closed and earbuds in, but Tim has no illusions that he’s not ready to spring into action at any perceived threat. _I wonder why the demon wanted to come with? I’m his least favorite brother by far and the only reason he’ll give Jason the time of day is because they both have an unholy obsession with sharp objects and Jason’s penchant for blowing things up. Unless Dick put him up to it? No, that can’t be right. If Dick knew about what we’re doing, he’d be curled up next to Damian in back, yammering away and driving us all nuts._

“Does this car even have a radio that’s not a police scanner?” Jason interrupts Tim’s thoughts. “I don’t remember it having one, but you did most of the tinkering in here.” 

Tim laughs. “Nope. But, I’ve got music on my phone.” He digs into his pocket to pull it out and swipes open the screen. “What’s your poison?” he asks. “I’ve got a bit of everything.” 

“No road trip is worth anything unless we’re blasting some Queen.” 

“Good call.” 

Opening a playlist, Tim selects a song and turns the volume all the way up. As they fly down the highway in the modified Batmobile, Jason starts belting out the opening lyrics to _Bohemian Rhapsody_ , with Tim quickly joining in. 

***** 

Jason looks around with a feeling of smug satisfaction. The drive to the park went well. They only needed to stop once to get out and stretch, as well as top off the gas tank. _Fuel guzzler, but I have been going 80-90 mph for the most part._

It’s a crisp fall day at the campground they’d made their final destination. At the far end is a closed in veranda they can use if the weather is bad. Jason inhales deeply and promptly starts coughing hard. 

“Okay over there?” Tim asks from the picnic table he’s standing by. His laptop is busy churning away data from the temperature sensors and generating a chart. 

“Yeah,” Jason gasps when he’s able to breathe again. “Fresh air. Not good for Gotham lungs.” 

Tim laughs. “You mean smoker’s lungs. I’m fine.” 

“ _Ttt_ , seriously, Todd. Why you persist in smoking those foul cigarettes is beyond me,” Damian comments as he sets down the cooler he’d been struggling with getting out of car. 

“Why are you here again, demon midget?” Jason snaps. 

“Not for the company,” the boy replies, opening the cooler and withdrawing a sandwich and water bottle. He looks at Tim. “You said we would be here for an hour or two, Drake?” 

Tim nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

“I shall return before we leave.” With that, Damian hoists a backpack Jason hadn’t seen him bring into the car and walks off, heading towards the sound of running water. 

“What is up with him?” Jason asks. “I mean, there’s always something, but why is he even here?” 

“I think he wants to draw something different besides the shrubberies at the Manor,” Tim says. “That’s his art supply bag, so I’m pretty sure we’re going to find him sketching somewhere if we take a walk.” 

_The brat’s an artist? Didn’t know that._ “He any good?” Jason takes a sandwich from the cooler. 

Tim shrugs as he does the same. “He never shares his pictures with anyone but Dick and his friend Colin. Sometimes Alfred. Though Bruce did get a very nice picture he painted for his birthday last year.” He gives Jason an odd look. “Something wrong?” 

Jason bites into his sandwich, taste buds dancing in delight at Alfred’s homemade concoction. “I’m just trying to figure out how artistic talent can be passed down from two people like Bruce and Talia.” 

“Bruce can draw,” Tim replies. “He only does when he’s diagramming something or sketching out a suspect profile, but he can. Pretty well too.” 

A memory appears unbidden in Jason’s mind, of Batman carefully showing Jason how a sketch artist can, with just a few strokes of a pencil and some questions, turn a witness’s memory into a viable image for the police to use. He’d demonstrated the skill, asking Jason to describe a person he knew that Bruce didn’t. At the time, he’d been amazed at what appeared on the paper, having never seen someone draw something with just words alone for a guide. 

They finish their lunch in silence.

***** 

As they hike through the woods in the direction Damian wandered off in, Tim eyes Jason warily. _He’s been awfully quiet since we talked about Damian. I wonder what’s going on in that head of his?_

He doesn’t ask, knowing better than most that the oddest question can set the other man off. Turning his gaze on the woods, Tim tries to relax. There had been rain a couple days before, turning the fallen leaves into a sodden and slippery mess underfoot. The air smelled of damp leaves and something earthy he always associated with the forest and being outdoors. _Why don’t I do this more often?_

Tim takes out his phone and takes a few pictures. _When we come back next week, I’m bringing my camera._

“Still taking pictures of everything?” Jason asks, breaking his silence finally. "I should call you stalker instead of replacement."

“Yeah,” Tim replies, ignoring the part about being a stalker. He's a bat, it's what they do. “I love photography. Always have, even when…” he trails off, realizing what he’d been about to say. 

“Even when you stalked Batman and Robin through the Gotham night?” Jason finishes. 

Tim chuckles a bit, glancing over at his brother. “I got some pretty amazing pictures. Of you, especially.” 

Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Thought you were a fan of the first Robin.” 

“Of you,” Tim replies. “Dick wasn’t Robin for much longer when I started going out. By the time I really figured out how night exposures worked and got a good camera, you were Robin. You knew how to actually stand still too. Dick was always moving. Some of my best shots were of you.” 

“A regular bunch of artists that Bruce’s collected. Except me.” Jason’s voice is light, but Tim catches the edge to it. The bitterness. 

“Including you,” Tim replies forcefully. “You have a way with words that none of us do. I swear, if you ever sat down to write something of your own, it’d be an instant bestseller.” 

The statement seems to take Jason aback. “You’re just saying stupid shit,” he says defensively. “You know very well how I speak.” 

“Yes, I do,” Tim says. “And I know that you hide behind your roots and street accent when you want people to underestimate you. I also know you can turn that off on a dime and deliver a razor sharp commentary that’ll make anyone stop and take notice. God forbid you ever get on Twitter or start blogging. You’ll be a hit.” 

“You’re a little shit sometimes, you know that?” 

“So you’ve told me many, many times,” he replies blandly. A flash of red catches his eye. “There’s Damian.” He points to the boy sitting off the trail on a boulder, sketchpad in hand. 

Jason lets him change the subject. “I want to walk a bit more before we have to leave.” 

They pass by where Damian’s sitting, waving as they do, but Damian ignores them. 

Tim decides to ask a question he’s been wondering about since Jason invited him to his apartment last week. “So…I know you wanted to use your Batmobile from when you were Robin for this but…Is this the same one Bruce used when he found you?” 

Jason laughs, loud and bright and something in Tim’s stomach lurches as it’s almost the same laugh he used to laugh when he _was_ Robin. “Different engine and I don’t even know how many different tires, but it is.” 

_There’s the opening I wanted._ “I wish I was there that night. To watch you steal the tires from the Batmobile. But I wasn’t quite brave enough to venture into Crime Alley yet.” 

“No guts, no glory.” 

“What made you do it?” Tim asks questioningly. “You had to know what that car was and who it belonged to.” 

“I did. The risk was worth the reward. Everyone in Crime Alley knew Batman would be there that one night of the year. Go figure that the year I jack the tires is the night he figures out the Alley is on to him and makes it a dull night.” Jason shoves his hands into the pockets of his brown leather jacket. 

Tim decides to push his luck a bit further. “And the rest went down in history?” 

Jason’s silent for so long Tim starts to think he’s not going to answer. “I didn’t know it at the time, but that was the best night of my life. Everything changed.” He squares his shoulders and looks at Tim. “I have a lot of things I regret doing, but jacking those tires is not one of them.” 

They continue walking in companionable silence.

*****  

Damian watches his two older brothers from his spot in the back seat. Even on the drive back, neither let him into the front seat, though he didn’t fight hard for the privilege given that the passenger was in charge of handling Drake’s laptop and tracking whatever readings they were collecting. _Cooking a meal in the engine block of a car is ridiculous. It’s certainly something these two imbeciles would think of doing._   

He hadn’t spent too much time wondering about what Todd, Drake, and Father were doing together until he overheard Todd tell Father where they were going. The thought of getting out of Gotham for a day was appealing; especially when Father did whatever it was to get Drake to shut up about his joining them. From his spot in the backseat, it was easy to observe the two men Grayson insisted were his brothers. He may have been wearing his earbuds, but he was listening to them.  

Aside from their interesting taste in what they called “road trip music”, it had been…interesting. There was a method to their madness, he’d discovered. They were testing a theory, making sure the science was precise before moving into the final stage. It was logical, which is something Damian could understand and appreciate.  

Upon their arrival at the park though, Damian needed to get away. He grabbed his gear and some food and wandered off, finding a spot where he could settle in and try to catch the way the light struck the water and the dappled effect of the water against the darker stones beneath. As he drew and shaded, his brothers were never far from his thoughts, which was irking him immensely. _They used to be at each other’s throats. Todd has tried on numerous occasions to kill Drake and yet here they are, even chummier with each other than Drake is with Grayson. What changed? Has it really been these ‘myths’ they’re doing together?_

The thought stays with Damian as they pack up to return to Gotham. He eyes the two of them in the front seat, Drake driving now with Todd manhandling the laptop. _If I found a myth I want to do, would they want to do it with me?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help sneaking Damian's POV in at the end. Had to! And yes, I already know exactly what myth he's going to do. Tim's already thought of it too because he's scary good like that. And Jason will be totally on board because he gets to blow something up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big shout out again to the wonderful GoAwayOlivia for reviewing this chapter!

Chapter 4 

It's the day before Thanksgiving and Jason stares blankly at the list in front of him. He and Alfred had finalized their meal plan a few days before but the sheer amount of food on the list is mindboggling. He turns to Alfred and asks, "Just how many people are we cooking for? There's no way in hell we can get all this in the car." 

Alfred gazes calmly at Jason. "According to your and Master Tim's calculations, you can feed four people with the car, assuming all goes well. But there will be seven mouths to feed, so we need to make a full feast in the event the experiment fails." 

Jason's jaw drops. "Seven. What the fuck, Alfie? And don't give me that look, you just dropped a bomb on me, I'll swear if I want to," he added in response to Alfred's raised eyebrow at his language. 

"Everyone in the immediate family wishes to come with, even if they can't all drive with us to the park. Master Bruce will be following behind in a more full size vehicle with the additional food." 

"Everyone?" Jason asks. 

"Everyone. Including Miss Cassandra. She arrived from Hong Kong yesterday and is recovering from jet lag at the moment. I imagine she'll be down soon. She has an unerring sense for when I'm preparing a large meal." 

Jason takes in the information. The immediate family included Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, Damian, and Alfred. He makes seven. That means no Stephanie. "Blondie not comin'?" _Fucking shame, her I actually like_ _._

"Miss Stephanie expressed a desire to come but already made plans with her mother." Alfred takes the list from Jason. "Come now, we have much work to do. We'll prepare both meals together and when Master Tim brings up your cooking vessels, we can start cooking the secondary meal." 

"It's all the same?" Jason remembers a couple of Alfred's Thanksgiving feasts and elaborate didn't even begin to describe them. 

"Yes. And well within the scope of your cooking skills." Alfred hands Jason an apron and slips his own over his head and ties it around his waist. 

_At least it's not something ridiculous like kiss the cook_ _._

The next couple hours are interesting for Jason as he assists Alfred with preparing dishes the old butler doesn't use recipes for. "These dishes have long since been favorites for each and every person who's been part of this family in recent years. The basis for each dish remains the same. Only the method of cooking is different." 

About an hour into the work, Jason has a feeling he's being watched. He looks up from shucking corn to see Cassandra perched bird like on one of the high chairs on the other side of the large kitchen island he's working at. Out of everyone in the family, she makes him the most nervous and he's not afraid to admit it. _The things she sees about me...god sometimes I want to know, but most of the time I don't. It's worse than going to a shrink._

"Alfie said you'd be down eventually. Hungry?" he asks. 

Cass shrugs. "I can always eat."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." Years and years of never having enough teaches a person to never say no to a meal when it's offered as it could be awhile before the next one. "Alfred's checking on the turkeys. You want him to make you somethin' or you okay with a sandwich?" 

"Sandwich. I can make it." With that, Cass glides smoothly from her perch and goes to the fridge. Upon opening it though, she pauses. Jason and Alfred have been busy and there's a large number of foil wrapped dishes taking over the shelf space. 

Jason smirks at her surprise. "Go sit down. I need a break from this damn corn anyways." 

Cass gives him an appraising look, but steps away from the fridge. Jason grabs a few things from the fridge and grabs one of the baguettes he'll be cubing for stuffing when he's done with the corn. Within a couple minutes, Cass is contentedly eating the sub Jason's placed in front of her. 

Returning to his corn, Jason keeps a wary eye on the petite woman that’s technically his sister. _I know her story, so I’m sure she knows mine. Tim said he’s close to her, but that she’s best friends with Blondie. I get why she doesn’t speak much, but Jesus Christ is that gaze unnerving_ _._

The sandwich is quickly gone and Cass picks up her plate, takes it to the sink and places it in the soapy water. Alfred and Jason have been washing as they go, needing to reuse on more than one occasion a particular mixing bowl or knife. She approaches Jason and watches closely how he’s peeling the husk from the corn. “Can I help?” she asks. 

Jason doesn’t bother to try and hide the surprised look on his face. “Do you cook too?” 

“No,” she replies. “But that,” she points to the corn, “is something I can do.” 

“Sure,” Jason says and hands over the remaining ears of corn. “Make sure to pick off most of the silk.” He takes the corn he’s done with and rinses it off at the sink, before taking it back to the island. Cass has made quick work of the remaining ears and is diligently picking out the fine strands of corn silk. “That’s good enough,” he says. “Go rinse those off and we can play with some knives.” 

The mention of knives piqued Cass’s interest, just like Jason knew it would. She takes the corn, rinses it off, and quickly brings it back. Jason takes a large chef’s knife and shows her how to shave the corn from the cob. She grins and takes the other knife Jason hands her. 

Alfred returns to the kitchen to see the two of them standing side by side and can’t hide the large grin that briefly appears on his face at the sight. “Good morning, Miss Cassandra,” he says. “I trust you slept well?” 

“I did,” Cass replies. “Jason fed me too.” 

“He did? Excellent.” Alfred pats Jason on the shoulder as he passes behind him to wash his hands. “The turkeys are almost ready. Will you be assisting us further, Miss Cassandra?” 

“I can cut things,” she replies, brandishing the chef’s knife with a flourish. 

Jason snorts in laughter. “No shit. I’d love to see you take apart one of those birds with that thing!” 

The look on Cass’s face is a combination of bloodthirsty and impish, something Jason only thought Tim was capable of doing. “It won’t stand a chance,” she says with a grin. 

***** 

Down in the Batcave, Tim’s carefully folding a piece of steel with a press to get the desired shape. _How funny that the catalytic converter box on the show is almost exactly the same as the one I need for the Batmobile. Just a few modifications, but other than that, the same._

Next to him, Bruce is hammering out another tray that’ll be bolted onto the bottom of the engine block. 

_It still amazes me that the temperature readings we got were almost identical to those on the show. Plus a few rather unexpected hot spots too, but that’ll just make things easier._

Tim glances over at Bruce, then onto his other side where Dick is grinding down the rough edges of another container. _I wonder if Alfred sprung the news on Jason yet about Dick, Cass, and Damian coming along. And Bruce. I’m glad Alfred agreed to do it. Not sure how Jay would have taken it from me._

Dick had found out about the cooking myth through Damian of all people. He’d called Tim the other day to ask about it and if there was anything he could do to help. For all Dick’s quirks, he’s good with his hands and messing around in the workshop with Tim and Bruce was right up his alley. Upon his arrival though, Tim noticed a number of odd looks sent his way from his oldest brother. He wouldn’t have thought much of them, but Bruce was doing the same thing. 

Tim takes the finished box to another bench to start soldering the sides together to create a tight seal. _Sooner or later, he’s going to say something. Dick always does. I’m pretty sure it’s about Jason too._

It takes a little bit, but Dick eventually finishes his work and comes to stand next to Tim. He watches silently for a time before speaking. "How're you doing it Tim?"  

"Doing what?" he replies. _If you have to ask then I'm going to make you work for it. You know damn well what you’re doing with Jason isn’t working and yet you keep trying more of the same anyway_ _._

"Don't, Tim. Just don't. You know what I'm talking about." Dick almost snaps.  

From behind them, Bruce stops his work, resting his mallet. "Dick," he says warningly as he turns to face his sons.  

"You want to know too! You've said as much but won't ask." Dick levels a bright blue gaze at Tim. "How are you doing all this with Jason? He's opened up more with you in the last several months than he ever did with me or Bruce. You've seen more of him too! What's your secret? Is it these myths?" 

Tim sighs and sets down his soldering iron. He looks at Dick and over at Bruce who's walked over to stand with Dick. "The myths were the ice breaker. It's something we finally found that we have in common besides Robin.” He pauses and thinks back to the island and the night the storm blew over their makeshift cave. The card game he started to keep Jason distracted worked even better than Tim thought it would. They’d opened up, both of them, in a way Tim didn’t think was even possible. _I will not betray the trust Jason put in me with the things he said, not even to Bruce or Dick. But damn me if I can’t give them the kick in the ass they need._ “I really think it comes down to the fact that I accept Jason as he is now instead of trying to force him into being who I remember." 

_And there’re the shocked and slightly constipated looks I was expecting._

Dick shares a troubled glance with Bruce. "That's easier said than done, Tim.” 

"I know," Tim agrees steadily. "The boy you remember is gone. He grew up, like we’re all supposed to do. What galls the most is that he didn’t grow up the way you wanted him to. That you weren’t there to stop what shaped him into who is he now. But you need to get over that and just be happy he had the chance to grow up in the first place.” 

Dick’s face crumbles at the not so subtle reminder of Jason’s death and resurrection. Bruce pulls the stone-face Tim’s familiar with when the man’s trying to shut down and suppress a strong emotional reaction to something. 

Tim continues, less harshly now. “It's easier for me since I never really knew him before. Not that any of my first experiences with him were all that great either, but I eventually forgave him for trying to kill me. He hasn't forgiven himself yet, but I think in a way this is his attempt, at least with me. You guys need to figure out for yourselves what will get through to Jason. If done right, I’m positive he’ll be open to the attempt.” 

_He wants to come home. He never came out and said it but I could see it. He just doesn’t think he deserves it. But God, does he ever._

“But what will get through to him, Tim?” Dick asks earnestly, hands clenched into strong fists. He’s rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, a restless action reminding all those who know and love him that he can never quite stand still. 

“I don’t know. I think it’s going to be different for each of us. But, if this last week has proven anything, cars would be a good start.” 

At that, Bruce’s stonewall dropped a bit. “He’s always loved cars.” 

_Fuck it, I’m showing him one of the pictures I took. I can’t let him not finish that thought._ “Hang on a second,” Tim says and runs across the workshop to the main part of the Cave where he’s left his tablet charging. Grabbing it, he opens the photo file and pulls up the one he wants. He takes it back to where Dick and Bruce are waiting and holds it out to Bruce. “Don’t swipe for more, just look at this one.” 

Bruce takes the tablet almost reverently as he gazes at the picture Tim took of him and Jason standing over the Batmobile. There’s grease on Jason’s face and Bruce’s hair is a mess but both men are smiling genuine smiles. In the picture, Bruce’s head is angled a bit downward so he’s not looking directly at Jason, but Jason’s looking right at him. 

Dick gasps as he peers around Bruce’s wide shoulders. “I hope to God you’re printing that, Tim.” 

“I already have.”

***** 

Hidden in the shadows, Cassandra watches Bruce closely as he looks at the picture Tim’s showing him. _Longing. Hope. Sadness. So much sadness. Determination._

Her gaze flickers to Dick. _Sadness. Suppressed anger_ _. Some jealously. Amazement. Longing._

She looks at Tim. _Determination. Hope._

Cass thinks back to what she just left upstairs. _Alfred_ _calm acceptance. Jason…pain, so much pain and sadness. Burning desire to belong. Confusion. Longing_ _._

Unlike her namesake, Cassandra can only read the present and the people around her. But what she sees gives her hope. _If they don’t mess up._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cass, I really do, but her character is sooooo hard to write properly. But this wouldn't be a family fic without her and I love how she's turning out here.
> 
> Almost done! One more chapter to be posted on Thanksgiving.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Down in the Batcave, Jason gives Dick one of his trademark, smartass smirks. “No,” he says almost gleefully. “Alfie’s got shotgun and Timmy’s in the backseat with his laptop for the science shit. There’s not enough room for you too.” _And I wouldn’t want you in the car anyways. At least this time, I’ve got an actual reason to say no fucking way to your face._

Dick pouts and tries again. “Come on, Lil’ Wing. You know I can curl up into some pretty tight spaces.” 

“For five hours?” Bruce asks as he hands Jason the cooler that’s being placed in the backseat of the car along with Tim and his tech. “You can barely sit still for five minutes.” 

“Bruce, you’re not helping,” Dick almost snaps, but manages to turn into a teasing tone at the end. “I thought it was a four hour drive?” he asks instead. 

“For this part of the trip, almost five,” Jason replies, crossing his arms against his broad chest and resists the urge to punch his older brother. “We’ve got to stop and pull the food as it’s done.” He glares a moment, then stalks past the two men to where Tim’s packing up some gear. “Hey Replacement, you got the jack for the car?” 

“Already in the back,” he says calmly and holds up an old camera. 

Jason hears a click and the snap of the shutter, and Tim places it carefully in carry bag that’s obviously designed for the thing. _Did he just take my picture?_ “If I knew I was gettin’ my picture taken, I’d have given you my good side.” 

“What, with two birds flying through the air? Pass.” Tim shoulders the bag and walks over to the Batmobile where Dick and Bruce are waiting. 

Dick tries one more time. “Why exactly is Alfred driving with you two instead of with the rest of us in the SUV?” 

“Amongst my many caps in this household, I am a master chef,” Alfred replies, cutting off the retort Jason was about to unleash as the old butler approaches the car carrying a woolen coat. He’s already sporting a fine cashmere scarf, looking every bit the gentleman’s gentleman. “Master Jason is quite the cook in his own right, but with this experiment, timing is everything so he wishes for a more experienced hand to be present.” 

Jason can’t help beaming at the praise. Dick’s mouth twitches into a smile at the sight. 

“I think you’re ready,” Bruce says as he takes a final glance under the hood of the car and tucks a piece of insulation more securely before closing the hood with a firm _thunk_. 

“I’ve left a list upstairs in the kitchen with everything that needs to be packed into the car,” Alfred says. “All the extra food and dishes are ready to go and there are several thermoses as well.” 

“I already put the portable space heaters by the garage door.” Tim brushes past Dick to reach into the car and set his camera bag on top of the small cooler. “Don’t forget them or you’re going to regret it later.” The weather forecast called for a possibility of rain up in the mountains, so at the very least, it was going to be cold. 

“Those are on the list?” Bruce asks, looking to Alfred for confirmation. 

“Yes.” 

“Then we won’t forget.” 

Jason watches the interaction with barely concealed impatience. He and Tim had spent the better part of the last hour anchoring all the specially designed cooking vessels to the engine compartment of his Batmobile. He’d marveled at them yesterday when Tim and Bruce, as well as Dick, brought them up from the Cave for inspection and to be washed. _Come on, let’s get this show on the road._

He’s about to open his mouth and say something when Alfred gives Bruce a pat on the shoulder and a _look_. He then takes his seat in the passenger seat of the Batmobile. Tim shoots Jason an amused look and folds the driver seat down to scramble into the back. “Hand me my laptop, Alfred? Thanks.” 

“I guess that’s it then.” Bruce stands next to Jason and carefully looks everywhere but at his son. 

“Yeah. Just make sure you don’t forget anything on Alfred’s list. I saw that look.” 

A wry chuckle escapes from Bruce. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that look for the better part of the last 40 odd years. I know better than to miss something.” 

“Screw your training, Alfie’s got all of us wrapped around his fingers.” Memories of hot black tea delicately sweetened with sugar and a dash of cream, a gentle pat on the shoulder, and praise over a perfectly executed omelet cross Jason’s mind. _He never judged me. Never made me feel like I was less. Fuck, I learned just as much from him as I did from Bruce. Perhaps more, because I can actually take care of myself. The rest of these assholes are going to be fucked when he kicks the bucket._ Jason quickly taps down the thought. _No, not going there._

“That he does. You’ve got everything you need?” Bruce finally gives him a direct look.

_Christ, he’s horrible at this._ “Yes, _Dad_. We’ve got everything.” Jason squares his shoulders and gives Bruce a purposefully mocking look. “I promise not to wreck the car too.” 

“It’s not the car I worry about,” Bruce says with a meaningful look. “Have fun and we’ll see you this afternoon.” He gives Jason a pat on the shoulder and walks around to pull Dick away from the other side of the car where’s he been chattering with Alfred and Tim. 

_It’s not the car I worry about._ Jason stares blankly after Bruce for a moment. _He…does that include me?_ A rush of warmth floods him at the thought before he pushes it aside. _Don’t go there, Jaybird. Things are fine, just FINE, the way they are now._ He gets in the car and adjusts the back of his seat to the angle he prefers. 

“We ready?” Jason looks at Alfred and glimpses Tim in the rearview mirror. 

Tim gives him a thumbs up. “Good back here.” 

“I am ready, Master Jason.” Alfred pats Jason on the knee. 

“Let’s do this!” With that, Jason closes the driver door and puts pedal to the metal. The Batmobile flies out of the Cave.

***** 

Tim watches Jason from his spot in the backseat as the man skillfully maneuvers them through the holiday traffic. A medley of songs from different musicals is playing quietly over the portable speakers Tim hooked up for his phone. The mix was Jason’s idea as he didn’t think Alfred would appreciate Queen or Metallica blasting throughout the car like they’d had on the last trip. Something had happened between him and Bruce before the man got in the car earlier and Tim’s been puzzling over it ever since. 

_I know I wasn’t supposed to see the look on his face. Talk about an unguarded moment._ Tim hadn’t heard what Bruce said, but the look on Jason’s face afterwards was revealing. _That look…God, I only know what it is because I’ve seen that same look on Dick’s face before. And I’m sure I’ve worn it too. Bruce had an actual parent moment there and whatever he said, he broke through to Jason for once. What the hell did he say?_

In the front seats, Alfred and Jason are talking about books. It’s a safe topic with Jason, but one where the person involved with the discussion better be able to defend their viewpoint or he’ll mercilessly cut it to pieces if it’s unsubstantiated. Tim knew from the time on the island that Jason enjoys reading and had gotten into a couple of rather animated arguments about some titles they’d both read. _Animated my ass. One of those arguments ended with him throwing a coconut at my head. Eloquent doesn’t even begin to describe Jay when he gets going on a topic he enjoys._

He glances at his watch and taps on his laptop to wake it up and show him the temperature sensors he’d left in place from the previous drive. The data had shown him some temperature spikes when the car was stopped and both of the cooks in the front seats had asked to be warned when a certain number of them occurred this time around. For all that Jason is able to weave in and out of the holiday traffic, he still has to stop more often than before. They’re barely an hour into the trip and they’re already about 20 miles short of where they’d been at this time the first time around. 

_I hope this snag opens up soon._ _I’m no cook, but even I know an elevated temperature for too long is bad._

Tim’s worries are soon alleviated as Jason passes the accident causing the backup and quickly picks up speed, smoothly weaving in and out of traffic and making up for lost time. It’s not much longer before certain smells come wafting through the vents and Tim’s mouth starts watering. “Is that sweet potato?” he asks. 

“Yes,” Alfred replies. “With the way those are placed throughout the engine block, I imagine we’ll be smelling them the most.” 

Jason catches Tim’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Where are we with those temperature spikes, Timmers? That traffic back there didn’t help.” 

Tim glances at his laptop. “More than where we were at this point last time around, but still less than where you wanted a warning.” 

“We’ll be heading up into the foothills in about an hour.” Jason glances over at Alfred. “We’ll probably need to stop then.” 

“That sounds like an excellent suggestion, Master Jason.” 

They keep up the speed and they’re almost two and a half hours into their trip before Jason pulls off to the side of the road and stops the car. He pops the hood and gets out. Tim follows, reaching back to grab the jack from the floor in the backseat where he’d stored it earlier. Alfred steps out as well, taking a deep breath of the cool air. The sky is overcast, but there’s no rain yet. 

The smell hits them as Jason opens the hood. 

“Wow,” Tim says, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t think it would smell this good under here.” 

“No shit,” Jason replies as he leans over. “You can really smell the herbs and the turkey.”

“And the pumpkin spice,” Alfred chimes in. “There are many American foods I will admit to having no liking for, but pumpkin pie is _not_ one of them.” 

“We’ll convert you to burgers and fries eventually, Alfie.” Jason puts on a pair of gloves that look suspiciously like his Red Hood gloves and starts poking around the white insulation encapsulating the engine compartment. 

Tim kneels down next to the passenger wheel and puts the jack in place. “We lifting her yet?” he asks before doing anything. 

“Yes,” Alfred replies decisively. “The stuffing is done, as are most of the potatoes.” 

From his own bag, Tim pulls out a pair of old green gloves and slides them on. It’s not until the car is jacked up and he’s underneath handing Jason a few containers that he hears a comment about them. “Are those?” Jason trails off. 

“My old Robin gloves,” Tim replies as he tucks a piece of insulation back into place from where it snagged when he pulled out a container. “From my first costume.” _The one I was wearing the first time you tried to kill me at Titans Tower. Man, we’ve come a long way since then. It’s been what, almost four years now?_

He hears a laugh from the older man. “Well, they were designed to be all purpose. Just don’t think this is what B had in mind for them.” 

Sliding out, Tim smirks up at Jason as he accepts the gloved hand the other man holds out to pull him to his feet, green meeting black. “Find me another pair of gloves that gives me this much dexterity, protection, and insulation from something hot.” 

Jason waggles his fingers at Tim. “Why do you think I brought these?”

*****  

By the time the Batmobile pulls into the park, Jason’s stopped two more times to remove containers Alfred’s deemed ready. All the dishes are nestled within the insulation on top of the engine compartment. He and Tim would be removing all of it and stowing it in the SUV for the drive back to Gotham. _Man, I hope Dickiebird hasn’t convinced B to let him come back with us. I’d rather ride back with B in the SUV than sit through Goldie’s nattering._ _At least he won’t talk to me. I’m great at ignoring his awkward silence._

He stops the car next to the SUV that had passed them the last time he’d been pulled over. _Glad they had to wait. Serves them right for wanting to come in the first place_. 

Jason knew when he first proposed doing this myth with Tim that he’d have to bite the bullet and accept this would likely turn into a family event. It was something he wanted to do though, almost more than any of the other myths he and Tim had lined up for the future. The thought of driving and working on _his_ Batmobile was worth it. Thinking back on it, Jason realizes Tim really hadn’t worked on the car all that much, that most of the work was done by him and Bruce. Often together in the afternoons and evenings before patrols. _That sneaky little shit._

Popping the hood, Jason gets out of the car and purposefully doesn’t fold the backseat down for Tim like he’d done the other times they’d stopped today. _Petty, but I don’t fuckin’ care._

Tim arches an eyebrow at him when he finally emerges, dragging the cooler with him, but doesn’t say anything. He sets it down and pulls on his bright ( _Robin green_ ) gloves. Jason drags his gloves on and opens the hood, the smells of Thanksgiving dinner wafting over them like they did each time the hood of the car was opened up during the trip. 

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Tim says quietly. 

“I certainly hope so,” Alfred says as he grabs the carefully tented container with the mini pumpkin pecan pies with a hot pad. “The scents are promising.” 

Jason knew he’d eat the food from the car, regardless of how it turns out. His pride wouldn’t let him do otherwise. _Food is food. I cooked it, so I’m eating it._

From the veranda, Dick and Cass come running. “About time you got here!” Dick shouts as he gets closer. “How’d it go?” 

After taking a quick glance at Jason and seeing his resolutely closed mouth, Tim replies, “So far, so good. We’ll know in a few minutes.” 

Cass sneaks in next to Jason and picks up the vessels with the creamed corn and cranberry sauce in her gloved hands. “Relax,” she says quietly in a voice Jason knows is meant for his ears only. “No one is judging.” 

That’s when Jason realizes what he’s really uptight about. _It’s a fucking experiment. Experiments can fail, even if all the conditions are perfect. Bruce taught me that forever and ever ago. I want it to go right, to prove that I’m not the complete fuck-up everyone thinks I am._ “You sure about that?” he asks instead. “This family is full of judgmental assholes.” 

“Yes,” she replies and purposefully doesn’t clarify to which part she was agreeing to. 

Jason smirks. “Fine then. Let’s get the non-judgy judging over with.” 

Cass gives him a flat look and glides past him to walk to the veranda. 

Tim and Dick both have their arms full, so Jason grabs what’s left and closes the hood. He follows after them to the veranda where a full Thanksgiving table setting greets them. Covering the gray cement table is a fine tablecloth in fall colors that Jason remembers from the Manor. While the place settings are not the Wayne family china, they’re still nicer than paper plates and plastic forks. The small heaters have been set up, so the air’s not as cold as it could be in spite of the looming clouds. The scent of rain is in the air. _It’s coming down somewhere. Just stay away from here for a bit longer._

Alfred takes the containers from Jason and expertly opens them up to examine the contents before pouring them into the serving dishes he’s brought with. “The gravy did not set, much like what occurred in the show. But the cranberry sauce appears to be perfect.” 

“Got some cups?” Jason asks. “Improvised soup course.”

“Of course, I do.” Alfred looks around and gestures to a bag over by Damian. “Master Damian, if you would be so kind as to hand me the bag by your backpack.” 

Damian picks up the bag and hands it to Alfred without a grumble. “You did remember to make something without meat?” he asks instead. 

“Of course we did,” Alfred replies. “Most of these dishes are things you can eat, though I also prepared a small tofurky for you as well.” 

“Not in the car, I hope.” Damian glances over to the Batmobile and then at Jason. 

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “Only real meat was allowed under the hood.” 

Alfred apparently left instructions that no one was allowed to touch the already prepared food until he arrived so that it would keep warm. He and Jason quickly finish emptying the cooking vessels from the car and take out the additional food they’d made yesterday. Jason already knew it would taste amazing. _Part of the benefit of making everything is you get to taste everything first. I ate so much yesterday I barely made it home. Food coma bliss._

Everyone takes their seats. Jason makes sure he’s on an end and that neither Dick nor Bruce are sitting next to him. _I don’t care who I sit next to as long as it’s not them._ Across from him, Damian eyes the sweet potatoes hungrily. Cass is staring at a turkey drumstick that Jason knows she’s going to fight with Dick over from the way he’s staring at it too from his spot next to Damian. _Cass will win. No contest._

Bruce stands up from his spot beside Dick to get the attention of his family. “I know it’s cliché, but before we eat, I’d like it if we each take a moment to think about something we’re truly thankful for that you’d be willing to share with everyone. I’ll start.” He pauses and looks at Jason. “I’m thankful to share a meal with the people I care about most. Thank you, Jason and Tim, for this creative meal we’re about to enjoy.” 

The words are for both of them, but the look in Bruce’s eyes makes it plain he means it for Jason. He feels his throat clench tightly and Cass grabs a hold of his knee to start rubbing soothingly to keep him in place instead of bolting like his instincts are screaming to do. 

Across from Bruce, Alfred speaks up. “I am thankful for the opportunity to have prepared this meal with Master Jason. It was a unique challenge that I can only hope we were prepared for.” Jason stiffens some more and Cass’s hand becomes a firm grip. 

Dick grins. “I’m thankful that I have such creative little brothers and look forward to whatever else they decide to do in the future.” Jason hears the unspoken ‘with me’. 

Tim chimes in from his spot between Alfred and Cass. “I’m thankful I survived a plane crash this year and that Jason didn’t destroy my dishwasher with his lasagna.” The smartass grin he gives Jason from around Cass makes him want to punch something. He’s seeing a trend here and isn’t liking it. _I’m not family. I’m the fuck-up. The black sheep. The Robin that died because he wasn’t good enough. What the fuck was I thinking that this would be a good idea?_

Cass moves so that she’s pressed firmly against Jason’s left side. Her hand is digging into the firm muscle of his thigh now. “I am thankful for family,” she says. “Even when they are stubborn and don’t know how to listen.” Jason picks up on what she’s not saying. _I am listening. I just don’t believe what I’m hearing. I’m…I’m not good enough to be family._

Everyone looks to Damian. The boy sniffs and a soft “ _Ttt”_ issues from his mouth before he speaks. “I am thankful for _brothers_ who do not do completely asinine things like Grayson often does.” 

“Hey!” Dick protests and Jason grins. 

Jason suddenly realizes all eyes are on him now that Damian’s spoken. _I’ll be thankful when this is all over. I’ll be thankful that as soon as this meal is over, I can run back to that beautiful car and take her for one last spin back to Gotham before leaving her behind forever. I’ll be thankful I don’t have to interact with any of these guys outside of my hood for a long ass time._

But what comes out of his mouth is something altogether different. “I’m thankful for a second chance.” He snaps his mouth shut tightly before he goes any further, surprised at his words. _The fuck? That was not what I wanted to say, not to these guys._

Cass leans into Jason hard for a moment before retreating back to her previous seat, releasing the death grip from his thigh that he’s sure is going to leave a bruise later. Dick looks like he wants to cry and lunge over the table to grab Jason into a hug. He can’t see Tim or Alfred from his spot at the table, but he’s certain a similar look is on their faces. Bruce though…Bruce looks _emotional_ in a way Jason’s completely unfamiliar with. It’s a look of happiness and pride with a strong undercurrent of sorrow and sadness. 

_No. No, no, no, no,_ Jason chants in his head. _This is not what I signed up for._ _Fuck this, I’m outta here._

He’s shifted just enough to start getting up when Damian speaks up. “Enough of this emotional drivel,” he says in an annoyed tone. “May we eat now?" 

Damian’s impatient words cut through the tension like a knife and Jason settles down, purposefully looking at Damian and ignoring Bruce and Dick. _Thank fuck for self-absorbed little shit brothers._ “Dig in, brat wonder.”

***** 

Jason’s asleep in the passenger seat of the Batmobile. He passed out almost as soon as he and Tim got in the car to drive back to Gotham. Tim gives him another glance as he drives down the meandering mountain road. It’s just the two of them in the car this time, Alfred having decided to drive back with Bruce and the others. After the emotionally fraught meal, Dick was smart enough to not push his luck and ask to drive back with them.

The meal itself was delicious, including almost everything that was cooked under the hood of the car. The only thing that didn’t turn out were the brussel sprouts, but Tim wasn’t mourning those at all. Even Alfred’s fantastic hand in the kitchen couldn’t make those palatable to Tim. 

_I was not expecting the bomb Jason dropped. From the look on his face, I don’t think he expected that either. For once, thank God for Damian. That was exactly the right thing to say._

After the meal, Jason stayed close to Alfred and helped him pack everything back up into the SUV while the rest of the family tossed around a football to blow off some steam. The full contact sport appealed to Damian especially as he would viciously tackle anyone on the opposite team who held the ball, regardless of whether he was supposed to or not. Cass soon retaliated and the game very quickly turned into a brawl between her, Dick, and Damian for control of the ball. 

Bruce had turned to Tim and shrugged, giving him a very ‘what do you expect me to do’ look. He had no control over his kids and knew it. “Soccer?” he’d asked and Tim agreed. 

It was also a good day for his old camera too, even with the low light from the leaden sky. He’d taken two full rolls of film and couldn’t wait to get home to develop it. _I sure hope the picture I got of Jason smashing that piece of pie in Dick’s face turns out. I know they’ll both want that one, but for different reasons._ He’d decided that Bruce and Alfred were getting some sort of photo collage for Christmas with the pictures he’d taken over the last week or so with Jason in them. He knew better than to give such a gift to Jason, but he was going to print the one with him and Bruce working on the car and give it to him in a simple frame. _Probably best to just leave it on his coffee table and see what happens._

Tim glances over at Jason again when the man shifts and murmurs something unintelligible. It’s not long before he opens his eyes and blinks blearily, idly stretching as best he can in the seat, which isn’t much even with no one in the back. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Jason mutters around a yawn. 

“I did,” Tim replies glibly. “Several in fact. I particularly like the one I took where Cass kicked you in the face while you were throwing Damian at Dick.” 

Jason rubs his face where the kick had landed. It was a warning kick and they both knew it, so it wasn’t going to bruise too badly. “The brat deserved it.” 

“I’m not disagreeing with you.” Tim flips on the headlights. It’s late afternoon and with the still overcast sky, it’s getting darker even sooner. Soon, all they can see is within the twin beams of light coming from the front of the car. In the rearview mirror, Tim catches the occasional glimpse of the lights from the SUV Bruce was driving. Once they hit the main highway, it was sure to be a race back to Gotham. 

Tim tries to keep the silence light and companionable. _I’m not going to bring up what you said at dinner unless you want to, Jay. I’m thankful that you want to spend part of your second chance with me instead of trying to kill me. I’m thankful for the chance to get to know you as my brother instead of as my Robin. You’ll always be my Robin though. That’s never going to change, no matter what you do._

Knowing Jason as he does, Tim eventually speaks up, not wanting him to stew and think overly hard about what he and everyone else said at dinner. “So…,” he drags out with a small smile Jason probably won’t even see in the darkness. “What’re we doing next?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving!
> 
> Even if you don't celebrate this holiday, take a moment to think of something you're thankful for and share it with someone you care about.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
